This is the cake topper from my parent’s wedding nearly 30 years ago. I remember when my parents split and my father threw the glass bride and groom into the street and I watched it shatter into a million pieces.  I held on to this piece ever since.  For some reason when I look at it, it reminds me of pancakes on Sunday mornings. Road trips to California, Florida, and New England. It reminds me of a sober man who’s hand was so large I would hold onto his smallest finger when we walked through the park. He called me Miss Lou. He was the father I once sparsely had. I am left with just a piece him. His remains erode into the busy streets just like all of the bad memories of his late night binges and belligerent temper.  

This is the cake topper from my parent’s wedding nearly 30 years ago. I remember when my parents split and my father threw the glass bride and groom into the street and I watched it shatter into a million pieces.  I held on to this piece ever since. 

For some reason when I look at it, it reminds me of pancakes on Sunday mornings. Road trips to California, Florida, and New England. It reminds me of a sober man who’s hand was so large I would hold onto his smallest finger when we walked through the park. He called me Miss Lou. He was the father I once sparsely had. I am left with just a piece him. His remains erode into the busy streets just like all of the bad memories of his late night binges and belligerent temper.  


  1. mistibluday posted this